


The Man Who Went to Battle

by Minatu



Series: Sylvix Over and Over Again [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misgendering, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revolutionary War, Transphobia mention, War, disabled!Sylvain, no beta we die like Glenn, trans!felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23871700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minatu/pseuds/Minatu
Summary: Learning about American History for college... and I'm having feelings
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Sylvix Over and Over Again [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1460770
Kudos: 21





	The Man Who Went to Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Learning about American History for college... and I'm having feelings

Felix remembered when the paper came to call the men to war. His mother had helped him read the paper many times, secretly teaching him how each letter was to be read despite his father’s staunch traditionalism about women. His mother never agreed, but she never really had the opportunity to voice an opinion anyway. As soft as his father seemed, Felix had seen him when he was angry and knew better than to mention what he kept locked in his heart. Like the idea that he was a boy. Only his mother knew about that, and she merely smiled at him, calling him  _ Felix _ whenever they were alone and tying his hair like Glenn’s or his father’s to make him feel better about himself.

Even now, Felix could close his eyes and hear her sweetly whispered words, “Every day I wished you were born as you wish to be, my sweet Felix.” He reopened his eyes to a cold morning, rubbing his ill covered hands together. His boots had holes, but he didn’t dare take them off. He had nothing to replace them, and he tied them back together diligently. It had been cold back home when the fires died down in the middle of the night, but this, this was colder. Felix would count himself lucky if he didn’t lose some toes by the end of this.

“Morning,” a familiar voice spoke, settling into the snow next to him. Sylvain. Felix narrowed his eyes slightly at the red headed man. Felix wasn’t sure how he felt about him. He talked too much and was too friendly for Felix’s comfort, but no amount of biting words made the guy back off.

“...you’re chipper,” Felix finally sighed, and Sylvain merely grinned in response.

“Gotta be when we’re about to see foxes soon,” he responded. Felix knew this attitude was some sort of coping mechanism for the horrors of the war, but he could honestly do without it this early in the morning. 

“If you knew that, then maybe you should’ve stayed where you were,” Felix said, baring his teeth ever so slightly as he hissed the words at Sylvain. Sylvain didn’t respond, smiling wide and his eyes glowing golden in the early morning lights. Felix watched for a moment too long, and he turned away as he felt his cheeks flushing. He hated Sylvain. 

The explosion of a shot fired woke them both up, their eyes immediately scanning the area. Felix spotted the plume of smoke from the musket first, finding his aim. His fingers shook as he found the line of red trailing through the forest. They had been retreating, but they knew better than to let their soldiers off that easily. Especially if they wanted to win. The British soldiers appeared to be scrambling in surprise. Felix finally pulled the trigger, suppressing the stirring of fear in the base of his stomach. He should be used to this by now. 

The kick back of the shot stung on his shoulder. He’d be sporting quite the bruise at the end of this. No time to waste now that he’d given away their position with the shot. Sylvain fired off soon after him, and Felix was already grappling at him.

“Come on. Move, move,” he muttered, trying to pull the lug of a man with him to the spot he had decided to retreat to earlier. The two of them ran through the forest, the bark of a tree exploding where they had been just moments ago. Felix’s heart was in his throat, and adrenaline was loud in his ears. He never felt more alive than in moments like these when his life hung in the balance. He forgot the pain in his feet, and Sylvain looked like he was trying to laugh out of relief. 

The two of them slid behind a bush, and Felix got to work cleaning and preparing for the next shot. Fire, move, prepare, fire, move... He had done this before, when the weather was better. It was harder now, his lungs burning with the cold, dry air. Blood trickled from his nose, and Sylvain wiped it off his face with a thumb. Felix figured his face was red enough to hide the blush. They had been at this for a good while. Shouts and the firing of guns was clearly still going on. Felix wanted to yell at Sylvain for looking at him when he should be paying attention to the battle, but instead he frowned and readied to fire again, stomach against the cold snow. His jacket was wet. A problem for later. 

Felix fired off his last shot. He was out of ammo now, and it appeared Sylvain had ran out a bit ago. Felix wanted to shake him for not taking some of his. He could already hear Sylvain’s excuse about Felix being a better shot in his head. Felix was already tired. They retreated again through the snow. The shouting was louder this time, and Felix was slower. The snow was deeper. His feet slipped out from under him and a shot rang out. Felix’s voice caught in his throat as Sylvain turned back for him, hands reaching out. 

Time slowed down as Felix attempted to scramble to his feet when Sylvain fell with a cry. Felix helped him back to his feet, but the damage was already done. He wanted to say something rude, but his eyes were burning and his mind spinning. Blood ran down Sylvain’s leg. Felix wouldn’t leave without him. If they died in that forest, well that was fine by him. 

* * *

Felix couldn’t believe they made it out. Sylvain was certainly worse for wear, but Felix could finally do the little bit of first aid he knew until the doc could take a look at it. He tore a strip of his white shirt off to fashion a tourniquet, and Sylvain smiled weakly at him, finally listening to him for once about talking. 

When the doctor finally got to Sylvain, it was too late for his leg. Sylvain would be losing it. Felix couldn’t process what was happening. He stood there and helped with the whole procedure, lost completely to the moment. His head was full of Sylvain’s muffled screams and red, red blood. Felix didn’t know what else to do, but he managed to stay behind with Sylvain. Someone said he wasn’t fit for fighting anymore, and Felix thought that they might be right. He didn’t realize it was because he had been found out. His voice had gone too soft, too feminine. His bindings loose, the change obvious to the men around. 

Felix didn’t realize until someone asked for his “real name” so he could be sent back home, where a girl should be. He wanted to say something, bite the guy’s head off. He wasn’t a  _ girl _ , but he didn’t. He merely stared at the man in silence and stayed by Sylvain’s bedside. 

* * *

Sylvain got worse before he got better, but he still called Felix “Felix” even though there was no way he didn’t know about Felix by then. Felix promised himself to not leave Sylvain’s side. His hands shook as he took Sylvain’s hand, and Sylvain grinned back at him, squeezing. 

Sylvain got a cane and a wooden peg that he tried to pretend was cool. Felix let him have it. He had plenty of other things to make fun of Sylvain for. Felix began to wonder why Sylvain let him stick around. Why he still treated him like a man when he remained dressed as one. He was scared to ask, but he needed to know. 

They were on their way to somewhere warmer because neither of them could stand the cold anymore, and Sylvain was awarded a bit of land for his service. It wasn’t much, but Felix figured they could handle building a house and a few seeds and a couple of cows without much need for help. Felix didn’t want to be around people anymore. Sylvain didn’t say anything in response, but Felix could tell he loved being around people. Felix wondered if it was ok to want things.

“Fe,” Sylvain whispered one night, drunk and glassy eyed. His eyes still shone like gold, and it sent shivers down Felix’s spine. He turned to look at Sylvain, continuing to move the brush through his hair. 

“I think this place is it, Fe,” Sylvain said, settling down on the inn’s bed next to Felix. 

“You mean...?” Felix wasn’t good at this. Talking. Sylvain pulled the peg off of his leg slowly, grunting with pain. Felix leaned over the bed to look at the caked blood on it. More than usual. 

“We should stop traveling,” Sylvain said, turning to look where Felix was moments ago and eyes widening to find Felix closer than anticipated, “...and stay... here...” His eyes swept down, looking inside of Felix’s loose blouse. He blushed, clutching the fabric tightly and hiding the sight from Sylvain’s prying eyes. 

“Don’t look at me,” Felix said, his voice heavy with shame. Sylvain’s expression softened, cupping Felix’s face gently with a warm hand. 

“Fe, you’re beautiful,” Sylvain responded, and Felix frowned.

“Don’t,” he hesitated, “Don’t use that word to describe me.” Felix felt fragile in the lamp light. He pulled away slowly, lashes shadowing over his cheeks, but Sylvain didn’t look away from him. Felix put a towel in the wash basin’s chilled water. The heat had left it a long while ago from when Felix had used it to clean himself off. He wrung it out slowly, wandering back over to Sylvain and held a hand out. Sylvain sighed handing over the wooden peg. Felix handed the second wet towel over to Sylvain to wipe himself off with and got to work on cleaning out the wood before it had the chance to hurt Sylvain in new ways. 

Morning came, and Sylvain got his hands on a plot of land a little ways out of town that sat abandoned since the last owner passed on. Felix was a little relieved that they wouldn’t have to try and build something themselves considering Sylvain’s situation and Felix, well, wasn’t all that strong. At least, not how Sylvain had been before his leg.

They brought a mule and a pair of cows with them to the property, and it wasn’t much that was for certain, but Felix thought it might be enough. He spent most of the day trudging through the overgrowth repairing the fence so their pair of cows and mule couldn’t run off though they seemed happy enough with the waist height grass near the porch Sylvain sat on. 

Gardening, at least, was something Felix had done before. It was easy enough to get started with, using handwritten notes from a neighbor who had figured out the seasons well and was willing to share with Sylvain. Sylvain sat on the porch watching Felix work late into the afternoon, turning the heavily overgrown area into something usable.

Sylvain hated not helping, so he learned to do most everything in the house with a rolling chair he made. Felix had helped with gathering the wood, but he was surprised, seeing it in action. Sylvain seemed happier, zooming about the house faster than Felix honestly could. 

“Fe,” Sylvain spoke late at night when they both were unable to sleep the screams of an unforgotten war weighing heavily on their minds, “You aren’t going to leave, are you?” Sylvain sounded vulnerable, scared even. Felix found his clenched fist beneath the sheets and pushed his hand open until he held it. 

“No,” Felix answered softly. He felt hot in the cheeks, and he hated doing sappy things like this. Felix also knew, however, that Sylvain needed it. Sylvain needed to be reassured, or he would break down. Felix didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to Sylvain sobbing on the floor because he couldn’t get up to go to the restroom on his own and was too afraid to wake Felix for help. 

“I wish we could get married,” Sylvain whispered, and Felix’s eyes burned. He couldn’t do that, not even to soothe Sylvain’s worries. He couldn’t let the townspeople  _ know _ . Felix couldn’t live with that. He didn’t even send letters to his mother. 

“I’m sorry,” Felix responded in an equally hushed voice. Sylvain squeezed his hand tightly. 

“It’s ok,” Sylvain responded, “I understand. I’m just scared you’ll leave me. It’s irrational.” Felix blinked rapidly hoping the tears that threatened him wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, turning to face Sylvain. He touched Sylvain’s face gently, making Sylvain look at him, “Til death do us part.” Felix hated sappy moments like this. He was going to cry, and Sylvain looked like he might too.

“Til death do us part,” Sylvain echoed, pulling Felix in for a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually kinda pleased with this ending


End file.
